


Lucky Stars

by Kimium



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Nightmares, One Shot, post sdr2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 21:04:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13198542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimium/pseuds/Kimium
Summary: Post SDR2.Nightmares plague Nagito, so Hinata offers him a distraction in the form of folding lucky stars. Some kissing gets mixed in later, but in Nagito's defense, he wasn't the one to start it.





	Lucky Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you're all having a wonderful holiday! I was away with my family for a bit of a family reunion vacation. Internet was spotty so I wrote majority of this in a notebook by hand. It was fun and I'm very happy with this story. I hope you all enjoy it too. I love origami (to the point that if I was a dragon I'd hoard origami paper) so writing it in a story was a lot of fun.
> 
> As always feel free to leave kudos and comments. Those definitely help motivate me!

Nagito could feel the memories seep into his brain, nightmares mixed within every crevice. All he had to do was close his eyes and the nightmares easily oozed between the cracks. Nothing would stop them. He had lost track of how many times he had woken up, body sweaty, pulse racing beneath his thin skin, and mind in turmoil.

Multiple times Nagito had also woken with his hand touching the scarred skin of his other arm, the juncture where metal met skin. He could still feel the teeth of the hack saw and the dry taste of cotton in his mouth. It made his stomach churn, rebelling.

Sometimes Nagito would have to race to the bathroom, coughing bile up. Those mornings always left him sobbing on the cold floor as his stomach tried to shove itself out his throat.

That was the kind of morning that greeted Nagito when he woke up. He barely made it to the bathroom, knees smashing against the tile as he threw up. Nagito felt tears run down his sweaty face as he silently begged for his stomach to stop. That or for his stomach to disappear entirely. At this point he’d take anything to stop the burning.

When the nausea finally passed Nagito collapsed heavily against the floor. The coolness felt wonderful against his heated, sweaty cheek. His mind restarted and Nagito could see the tail end of his nightmare. It was his arm. Again. Nagito chuckled lifelessly. Of course, he was never able to escape his mistake. His arm throbbed, also in silent mockery. Nagito would have laughed, but it would hurt too much.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been lying on the ground, but by the time he managed to exit the bathroom Nagito could feel the tendrils of heat poke through his cottage. Grimacing Nagito changed, stripping his over sized shirt (well, a regular shirt; everything was oversized on him) flinging it onto his unmade bed. Walking over to his dresser, Nagito grabbed a clean set of clothes, changed, and exited. Doing his best to ignore the already sweltering heat, Nagito made his way to the restaurant. His stomach protested at the thought of food, but he had to at least try.

The restaurant was quiet, only Byakuya and Sonia present, talking. They waved to him before continuing their conversation. Nagito didn’t mind. He slid into the back. Perhaps he’d eat some toast? Or anything light.

“Good morning Komaeda.”

Nagito paused. Hinata was inside, a cup of coffee in his hands. Beside him was a pot of coffee, still steaming. The smell coated his throat and nose, making Nagito wince. He could already taste the heaviness of the drink. He could feel his stomach protest at the thought of drinking coffee on an empty stomach. The combination of bitter and acidic felt like a recipe for throwing up. Something Nagito already did semi regularly.

“Good morning Hinata.” Nagito walked over, ignoring the coffee, opening the fridge. Hinata silently watched him, sipping his coffee.

“You know, processed meat isn’t enough to be considered breakfast.” Hinata suddenly said.

“What?” Nagito blinked. When did this become an available topic?

“In your hands.” Hinata said as a means of explanation. As though he were a mind reader.

Nagito looked down. In his hands were two packages of processed ham. Quickly Nagito set them down on the counter, feeling his face burn a little. When did he grab those? Wiping his hands on his pants, Nagito stepped away.

“Sorry.” He muttered.

“No apologies needed.” Hinata raised an eyebrow, “I can help you make breakfast.”

“That is very thoughtful of you Hinata.” Nagito sighed, “but I can make my own.”

“No, it is fine.” Hinata brightly said, “I never mind helping. We got many options.”

He started to list the options, but Nagito’s stomach lurched, swirling and mixing in a sick pool of sludge. It felt disgusting. He wanted to gag as his stomach folded in on itself. The desire to run, to stop hearing Hinata talk about food and eating smoldered cold and icy inside. Nagito desperately shoved the desire way. No, he was stronger than that. He wasn’t going to throw up just from Hinata discussing breakfast plans.

“Komaeda?”

Hinata’s voice was close and suddenly Nagito felt Hinata’s hand on his forehead. His hand was a bit warm but Nagito had found Hinata ran a bit warm all the time. Nagito never minded. He always ran a bit cold.

“Komaeda?”

Oops. Nagito focused, pulling his attention back to Hinata. His brow was furrowed and his eyes focused. Nagito smiled (well, as best as he could) and reached up, touching Hinata’s hand, gently peeling it off.

“Sorry. I spaced out.” Nagito’s voice was steady. He considered it a small victory, “What did you say?”

“I was asking you what you wanted to eat.” Hinata reminded, “But you looked pained.”

“I’m fine.” Nagito said, maybe a bit too quickly.

Hinata frowned. Scratch that. Nagito definitely had said it a bit too fast. He wished he could take his words back, but it was too late. Not much left except to attempt placating Hinata.

“I promise.” Nagito added, as though the addition was going to help.

“Come here.” Hinata sighed, hand extended. Clearly, he wasn’t buying what Nagito was saying.

“Where are we going?” Nagito asked even though he was accepting Hinata’s hand as he asked.

“Just out to the dining area.” Hinata answered, amusement painting his tone.

They exited, Hinata dragging Nagito lightly out. Byakuya and Sonia were already gone, leaving the space empty. Hinata led him to the table closest to the kitchen doors. Nagito let Hinata shove him into a chair before he left. He adjusted himself just as Hinata returned with a small package of paper.

“Do you know how to fold lucky stars?” Hinata asked as he sat down.

Lucky stars? Nagito frowned and tried to sort through his memories. Everything was jumbled already thanks to Enoshima and the Future Foundation. Memories overlapped with memories in a kaleidoscope of indescribable colours. If Nagito knew how to fold lucky stars it was lost to his mind. That or it was buried in muscle memory and he wasn’t aware of it. Either way, Nagito wasn’t sure.

“Not that I know of.” He finally said with a small shrug.

“Okay.” Hinata took the paper out of the packaging, “It’s easy. Let me show you.”

He pushed the paper towards Nagito. It was in long strips of pastel. Hinata picked the colour, a lemon yellow, and passed it to Nagito. Then, slowly he walked Nagito through the motions. It wasn’t too complex, but Nagito stumbled through some of the steps. Clearly, his hands weren’t used to the motions. That shot the theory he had muscle memory for folding the stars. Having a metal hand probably wasn’t helping with his dexterity either. Regardless, Nagito managed to finish without Hinata helping him heavily. His star was a bit squished (especially compared with Hinata’s perfect star), but Nagito admired his work.

“I finished.” Nagito held the star up. “What was the purpose of this?”

Hinata laughed and snorted at the same time, “What makes you think I had a purpose other than wanting to show you how to fold a lucky star?”

It was Nagito’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Hinata, you dragged me out here abruptly. There is a reason.”

“Fine.” Hinata laughed, “I find origami relaxing. You were uncomfortable earlier, but this distracted you, yes?”

Leave it to Hinata to pick something like that up so quickly. Sometimes Hinata, the one before all the crap happened, shone though. Well, or so Nagito felt. Not that he was entirely sure (memories and jumbled-ness), but Nagito could just feel it. Unlike some of Hinata’s (artificial) talents, every time Hinata subtly picked up what others felt Nagito could swear it felt real. He wasn’t sure why or how he knew, it was merely a gut feeling.

“Yes.” Nagito answered Hinata even though he wasn’t one-hundred percent sure the question was rhetorical or not.

“Good.” Hinata smiled and Nagito felt his heart skip a beat, “Here.”

He passed the paper, back in it’s packaging, into his hands. Nagito accepted the paper, feeling the plastic crinkle under his hands.

“For when you feel overwhelmed and need something to distract.” Hinata explained. “Sorry we don’t have origami paper. I think Peko and Saionji have a small monopoly on our shipment.” He gave a crooked smile. He then passed the star he folded over to him. “One second.”

Hinata left and returned from the kitchen a moment later with a glass jar. It probably once held jam, but now it was empty and clean.

“For your stars.” Hinata needlessly explained.

“Right.” Nagito said anyways.” Thanks, Hinata.”

Carefully, he scooped the two stars and placed them in the bottom of the jar. The two yellow stars sat together. Nagito smiled.

~

Dinner was loud, though it hadn’t started that way. Nagito wasn’t sure what happened, but he knew it was a combination of Owari, Mioda, and Saionji. Then Koizumi got involved (thanks to Saionji) and suddenly a full-blown argument erupted. Hinata sighed visibly before he abandoned his dinner and went over to placate everyone. The sigh, however, was his undoing.

“Did you just sigh at me?!” That was Saionji or Owari. Nagito wasn’t sure.

The argument after that exploded, hotter and louder than ever. Nagito winced and wished they would stop. It wasn’t going to happen so Nagito silently gathered his plate and cutlery, leaving. He headed back to his cabin to eat.

After finishing he sat on his bed carefully and leaned over to his bed side dresser. His hands shook a little as he started to fold a star. The argument slowly burned in the back of his mind, loud and bouncy. A few times he messed up the steps and had to restart. The star was worse than his first one, but Nagito’s mind felt less crowded, the argument fading away. Picking the star up (a green one this time) Nagito put it into his jar.

~

_The city was burning and crumbling into a crinkled ball of nothing, of ashes, and dust. Wasn’t that what happened to all life? Stories, memories, individuality – all of it was doomed to fade in the end. Nothing mattered. It was the fate of all life. Of humanity. Servant laughed without oxygen, feeling the burn in his chest and lungs. Who cared in the end? Let it burn. Let it crumble and fall. Despair would rain down on the world like the plagues in that foreign religious text. In the end, the dust and ash filled end, Hope would spring forth and heal the world._

_Servant laughed again and ambled on, laughing until his lungs burst with the need for air. In the distance, or possibly in his mind (he was never sure at this point) he heard a female laughter join him. His voice felt coated in more Despair and he laughed harder._

~

Nagito woke shaking and clawing at his throat. Sweat poured down his brow and he felt like he had run a race. Gasping for air, Nagito sat up, wishing this would stop. How many times had he woken up, sweaty and mind rolling in turmoil? (More times than he could count.) He wished the answer didn’t feel straight out of a war novel cliché. Running his hand through his hair, Nagito took another gulp of air and forced himself to grab the paper Hinata had left him. His fingers shook and trembled, but he didn’t make any mistakes. Finishing the star (this time it was purple), Nagito placed it into his jar.

~

Weeks passed and soon Nagito’s jar was getting fuller. Every time he tried to pick a different colour, create a variety. His skill had also increased, his hands not as shaky. For some of the steps he barely had to look as he moved. It made the task almost mindless and sometimes that was all he needed, especially after nightmares.

(Not that all of the stars were folded at dire moments. Some of the stars were made when he just needed to shut his mind off for a moment.)

Nightmares still ran rampant through his mind. Most of the time it was Towa City that haunted him. Those nightmares were the most vivid. Sometimes it was other fleeting horrors. The locations obscure and muddy, but the pounding in his heart was strong and tangible. Once, Nagito dreamed of a decaying, ruined room. His mouth was dry, his hands sweaty. Sometimes he dreamt of the hack saw. Regardless of his dreams whenever he woke up from one he always folded a star. He folded a lot of stars in the morning. It wasn’t as helpful as he had hoped, the nightmares still soaking into his brain like kerosene. All that was needed was a match and his mind would burn.

Not that his mind didn’t burn already. Recovery felt like a foolish reality, a mere pipe dream. Everyone around him suffered. Nagito could see it in their bodies. He could see how Owari eyed food, how Souda wanted to wear long sleeves. He saw it in Kuzuryuu every time he rubbed his eye. He saw it with Pekoyama’s twitching fingers at her sword. He saw it in Sonia with her dislike of large contained bodies of stagnant water. He saw it in the way Saionji limped and in Koizumi’s gleaming fingers. He saw it in the still asleep bodies locked in pods.

Hinata was the only one where Nagito rarely saw a crack in his composure. He snorted. Hinata pushed himself too hard, too quickly. There was rarely a moment where Hinata wasn’t comforting, talking, holding, or generally helping others. Like him. Nagito touched his paper, a smile on his lips. Hinata may have given him something small, but the gesture wasn’t lost on Nagito. It only made his heart (foolishly) flutter. Stuffing the paper away, Nagito walked out of the cottage.

The day was once again already too hot and bright. What Nagito wouldn’t give for some rain or at least a bit of overcast days. Maybe some day. Walking slowly Nagito decided to skip breakfast and head to the main island. He walked along mindlessly until he reached the third island. Souda was predictably there, in Electric Ave, tinkering with something. Soundlessly, Nagito sat down beside Souda.

“Wrench.” Souda said as soon as Nagito was seated.

“Here.” Nagito easily passed the tool, finally getting a look at what Souda was fixing, “A fridge?”

“Yeah, Hajime says he wants a second fridge in the restaurant.” Souda explained.

“Makes sense.” Nagito hummed. When more people woke it meant they would need more food. Simple logic.

“I’m almost done.” Souda informed, “This is too easy.”

“Are you bored?” Nagito tilted his head.

“Nope.” Souda laughed, “I got Mahiru’s fingers, braces for Saionji’s leg, and of course, your arm.” He lightly tapped the metal. “After this do you mind if I check your arm?”

Nagito shrugged and lifted his arm a bit, “Sure. Go for it.”

“Thanks.” Souda turned back to his fridge, “It’s been a while since I last checked.”

Nagito nodded. Souda had many things thrown at him, mainly things to fix. Sure, Hinata could also do check ups, but given how busy he already was, Nagito hated to be a bother by adding another job to Hinata’s extensive list. It was best for Souda to check up on his arm anyways; he after all built it. As Souda finished work on the fridge Nagito continued to help, passing tools to Souda. When they finished (Nagito meant they loosely, really it was all Souda’s work) he silently held his arm out. The familiar sound of tinkering soon filled the area. Nagito tried to not slump as Souda worked effortlessly.

“There isn’t much to fix.” Souda commented, “You’re keeping good maintenance.”

“That or I’m lucky.” Nagito added.

Souda groaned and smacked his shoulder lightly. “Komaeda…”

Nagito laughed “Couldn’t help myself, but I am lucky.”

“I’m pretty sure luck isn’t the only thing keeping your arm in good condition.” Souda dryly pointed out.

“Right, right.” Nagito grinned, “Keep telling yourself that.”

Souda smacked his shoulder again.

~

Lunch time rolled around and the hunger jabs were strong and unforgiving. Nagito rubbed his stomach and excused himself from Souda. Leaving with a wave of his hand, Nagito ambled to the first island, back to the restaurant.

Inside was a disaster. Again.

It was rare for Pekoyama and Kuzuryuu to get into an argument, let alone a dispute. Any time they had one Nagito (and the others) were blissfully unaware as they sorted things out privately.

Apparently, there really was a first time for everything.

Nagito immediately froze on the stairs, hand gripping the railing tightly. Their voices weren’t loud, but they were strong enough that every word felt like a dig into his skin. No heat was in their voices, rather a cold fury that Nagito felt bite with each syllable. He wasn’t meant to see this. It was private. Even though he should probably do something about it. But what could he say? Nagito carefully edged away, only to nearly run into Hinata.

“Hinata.” Nagito steadied himself, “Uh…” It felt too obvious to state why he was leaving.

“I got this.” Hinata calmly said, but Nagito could hear the strain under his words.

He walked up without a second glance back. Nagito stared up the stairs and listened as the argument took a different tone, Hinata adding to the mix. Selfishly Nagito felt a rush of relief, that someone else was taking on the task of helping. The relief was soon displaced by guilt so crushing Nagito felt himself run away regardless. He ended up back at his cottage, curled on his bed, his stomach growling. Sure, he badly wanted to eat and could go to the market, but his body didn’t want to move. Nagito instead flopped down onto his bed.

~

_The saw was rusted, a bit dented, but could cut. Servant tested it on some near by metal rods that were poking out of some corpses. He wasn’t sure if the rods had fallen and impaled the bodies underneath or if someone did it intentionally. Not that it mattered in the end. As long as the saw worked._

_When he deemed it fit, Servant searched around for something to muffle his voice out and something to stop the blood flow to his arm. He also searched for some bandages, or anything clean to staunch bleeding effectively._

_By the time he was finished, night was encroaching on the world, the moon shining pale and round through the destroyed building. It was almost poetic. Servant laughed and made his way back._

_The arm was still sitting on the desk, wrapped in the cleanest cloth imaginable. Or at least, the cleanest available cloth. Servant sat down at the desk, like a good student would and looked at the front. Destruction and riots had worn on the building, rubble and dust everywhere. Cracks littered what remained standing and Nagito could see plant and bug life retaking through the foundation cracks. The blackboard sat in the front, graffiti sprayed countlessly over it. Servant couldn’t read whatever half brained messages others had left. All he could see was Despair, the jagged lines in red, like the left eye of a Monokuma. It made Servant smile, wide, brokenly. He laughed again and heard the girl laugh with him._

_“Time to work.” Servant hummed._

_It was not grandiose, not like what Saionji wanted when she broke her leg or when Kuzuryuu or Sonia did a public execution. There were no crowds, no cheering masses, no sobbing or screaming. There was only Servant and the moon witnessing as he slowly and painfully took the hack saw to his arm._

_The blood stained the wood of the desk and the floor. Servant laughed through the entire procedure, feeling tears of Despair run down his cheeks._

~

Nagito lurched out of bed, scrambling as the sheets held him captive, curling around his legs. He tripped, falling out of bed, smacking his chin against the floor. A dull pain filled him and his chin and jaw throbbed in protest. Nagito pulled himself up and raced to the bathroom, not caring that half of his bedding was still tangled around his legs. He managed to fall to he knees as he threw up what little he had in his stomach. Bile burned down his throat and Nagito hated how familiar it felt. He hated how the dream wouldn’t stop playing in his mind. The hack saw, the arm, the pain, the blood. His scar tissue burned in protest and Nagito wanted to claw at it, scratch and scratch until his nails were worn down and his arm bloody.

Like that time.

The thought made him throw up again, merely dry heaving as he desperately tried to reign his mind in, shove it back to control. When the shivering and gagging stopped, Nagito forced himself to stand and drink some water, hating how it hit his stomach when he swallowed. His mind wasn’t stopping the memory and it rolled through his head on loop. He needed a distraction.

Rummaging through his bedside table, Nagito found the paper for the stars. He sat on his bed, curling the rest of his blankets around his shoulders to stop the shaking, and tried to fold. He folded and folded but despite the many drops of stars in his jar the memory didn’t disappear. Nagito growled and threw the paper aside, fingers shaking. A dozen or so stars sat on his lap, all different shades. Nagito tried to pick them up and place them into the jar, but he couldn’t gather everything without dropping them. The stars rolled a bit on the floor and Nagito tried to pick them up, but managed to dump the rest anyways.

“Great. Just… great.” Nagito hissed to himself.

His mind wasn’t shutting up, the memory wasn’t leaving, and he couldn’t distract himself with the stars. Worthless. He scowled and wished the word didn’t stab him as hard at it did. Sleep felt impossible and with a quick glance at the time, Nagito realized it was two in the morning. Great. He had to go to bed, clean up and attempt sleep. Standing up, Nagito reached for the jar, to take it down with him so he could put the stars inside, when he slipped.

The sound of glass shattering filled his ears. Nagito froze and watched as the jar sat broken, some of the shards huge and others tiny. The stars sat in the aftermath innocently. Nagito groaned and knelt down to pick the stars up. He ended up kneeling in the glass. The pain ran through his body as he felt the glass sink into his skin. Great now he needed first aid too…

A knock filled the room, cutting Nagito’s thoughts off. He blinked. Did he imagine that? He knelt frozen, staring at his door. The knock happened again, jolting Nagito to stand and clumsily walk over, avoiding the glass and stars, opening the door.

Hinata was on the other side, looking a bit sheepish, but his brow immediately furrowed. “Komaeda, your knees.”

Nagito looked down. Blood was running down his knees. Some of it had smeared as he had gotten up, making his legs look bloody. “Oh.”

“I was out for a walk when I heard a crash.” Hinata explained.

Nagito wanted to ask why he was out at two in the morning for a walk, but then he remembered he was awake and had nothing to point out. “I dropped my jar.” He said instead.

“For the stars?” Hinata immediately got it.

“Yes, I should clean up.” Nagito continued, “I need a new jar and…”

“Before that.” Hinata grabbed him, “You got glass sticking out of your knees and possibly in your legs. I’ll help.”

They ended up in Hinata’s cottage, Nagito not really getting a chance (or right) to explain. Hinata sat him on his bed and immediately pulled a first aid kit out from his bathroom. Nagito was reduced to sitting as Hinata took a pair of tweezers to pick the glass out.

“So, what were you doing up?” Hinata asked as he worked, “Nightmare?”

“Yes.” Wasn’t that always it? “It was my arm.”

Hinata hummed comfortingly, “Not pleasant.”

“What an understatement.” Nagito couldn’t help but giggle.

“Do you want to talk about it? Or no?”

Nagito sighed and looked up at Hinata’s cottage ceiling. It was painted to resemble the ocean, a nice mix of blues, turquoises, and aqua. It was lovely. Nagito could see the faint wisps of clouds being added. A work in progress then. Staring gave Nagito a moment to form an answer. Really, it was for his benefit if he told Hinata.

“Sort of. It was just me cutting my arm off.” Nagito tried to sound light. It wasn’t working. “I used a hack saw.”

Hinata winced. “That sounds…”

“Brutal, I know.” Nagito laughed, “And not as effective. Definitely not the best tool for amputation.”

“I was going to say painful, but brutal works too.” Hinata moved onto the other knee. “You really did a number on your legs.”

“I did?” Nagito looked down at the pile of bloody shards Hinata had in a small plastic bag, “Wow. I didn’t think I broke the jar that badly.”

“We’ll have to sweep the room multiple times.” Hinata informed him, “You should stay somewhere else for the night.”

“Is that a proposal?” Nagito asked.

Hinata paused, “I am the only one up. It would be illogical to wake someone else up now.”

That was true, but Nagito didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t want to see the nightmare again. “I’m not tired. Also, we’re going to save my stars.”

“Of course,” Hinata agreed, standing up, “Now, hold still. I’m going to clean your knees.”

He disappeared and returned with a wet cloth. Nagito sat still as the warm cloth gently cleaned his knees. At some point, Hinata added an anti septic to his knees, but it didn’t sting. When he finished, Hinata carefully bandaged Nagito’s knees. It reminded Nagito of a child, always having bruised joints.

“There. Now, to the kitchen.”

“The kitchen?” Nagito blinked. “I’m not hungry.” Despite not eating in a while, Nagito didn’t want to throw up on top of cutting his knees.

“Tea.” Hinata clarified, “Or something warm to drink? Since you don’t want to sleep.”

Oh. That made sense. “Tea is fine.”

“Good. Just be careful while walking.” Hinata warned him.

Nagito followed Hinata out, staring up at the sky. The moon was waxing, not quite full but not quite half. The air was considerably cooler with a small breeze. All the while the dream slowly slipped back into his mind, now that his injury wasn’t distracting him. When they reached the restaurant Hinata turned on a light, despite some of the moonlight filtering in, and went to the kitchen. With nothing else to do, Nagito followed Hinata inside, watching him make the tea. When the cups were full and steaming, Nagito took one and left the kitchen. Sitting at a table closer to where the moonlight was filtering in, Nagito took a sip. It was an herbal tea, some kind of chamomile blend. It warmed him and made his mind feel a bit less jittery.

Hinata came out as Nagito was drinking the tea, holding a package of square paper, not strips. Nagito watched as Hinata opened it carefully and pulled out two full pieces of origami paper.

“I convinced Peko to let me have a package.” Hinata said, “Here. Can you fold a crane?”

“Who can’t fold a crane?” Nagito countered, “Every kid learns it.”

Hinata laughed and started to fold his paper in half, running his finger along the crease a few times before ripping it smoothly into four smaller squares. He then did the same to the other piece of paper.

“Did you know eight is a lucky number in Chinese culture?”

“Yes?” Nagito turned one of the squares over.

“I figured we could you know, have a theme?”

Nagito laughed, “Eight cranes?”

“Yes.” Hinata started to fold one, “For your jar.”

“My jar is broken.” Nagito countered as he started to fold. The motions were engrained and he effortlessly worked.

“I’ll get you a new jar.” Hinata told him. “We got a few spares in the back.”

Nagito finished his first crane and grabbed a second piece of paper, “For emergencies?”

“Yes, origami paper emergencies.” Hinata agreed laughing.

“Very important.” Nagito smiled, reaching for his tea, “Thanks Hinata.”

“I wasn’t going to let you walk around with glass in your knees.”

“I mean for the folding, for the distraction.” Nagito clarified.

“You’re welcome.”

They finished the rest of the cranes in silence. When they were done, Hinata went back to the kitchen and got a new jar, placing them inside. Sealing it, he handed the jar to Nagito.

“You sure you’re trusting me with this?” Nagito asked as he slowly took the jar.

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Hinata assured him, “Want me to bring the tea?”

Nagito nodded. Hinata gathered the pot and the two cups. They walked back to Hinata’s cottage, the door left unlocked so Nagito could open it with ease. Placing his jar on Hinata’s bed side table, Nagito stood, unsure where to sit.

“The bed is fine.” Hinata told him, once again reading his mind.

He sat, watching Hinata pour them more tea. Nagito accepted it, sipping the warmth. It pleasantly pooled in his stomach.

“You can sleep here tonight.” Hinata told him suddenly.

“Uh… I thought that was a given?” Nagito asked.

“I mean, alone. I can go elsewhere.” Hinata said, “If you don’t want to share a bed?”

Nagito looked over at the bed, “I’m pretty sure it can fit both of us. But it’s fine. I’m not sleepy. I don’t want to dream.”

“Okay.” Hinata carefully agreed, “If you’re sure.”

“I am.” Nagito assured, “I’m not kicking you out of your place Hinata.”

“Right.” Hinata sipped his tea.

Nagito stared. This was pleasant, calming, and he was sure it wasn’t just the tea. Hinata was always soothing, a welcoming presence for his mind. It made his cheeks a bit pink at the realization, but it wasn’t an unwelcome realization. Really, everything about Hinata was pleasant.

It wasn’t his intention to lean closer to Hinata, but when Nagito caught himself it was a bit too late. Their faces were a bit too close. He could feel the heat radiate off of Hinata, gentle and warm. His breath ghosted across Nagito’s cheeks, stained with the herbal blend they were drinking. His heart spluttered and Nagito felt like he was dropped into a cheesy romantic situation.

So, having it play out like a cheesy romantic situation was okay then, right?

In Nagito’s defense, he wasn’t the one who started to kiss.

But he definitely kissed Hinata back, their tea hastily placed on the night stand as their mouths pressed gently against one another. When it got deeper Nagito didn’t complain. He kissed back tenderly, sweetly and when they broke for air it felt like the world had started to spin and wasn’t stopping.

“Did you lure me here just to kiss me?” Nagito pressed his fingers to his lips, feeling a giddy spark race through his body. Hinata kissed him.

“No.” Hinata answered, “But you’re okay with it?”

“More than okay.” Nagito giggled, “That was… a better distraction than all of the origami folding combined.”

Hinata’s cheeks pinkened, “We’re not replacing origami folding with kissing.”

“No?” Nagito almost pouted, “Can we then… mix it up?”

He didn’t wait for Hinata to answer. Nagito pulled him down and kissed him again.

~

The next morning (or rather when it was late enough that the sun was out), Nagito woke in Hinata’s bed only to find his jar full of the paper stars he had scattered earlier. On top of the stars, inside the jar, were the eight cranes. Nagito smiled and reached over, touching the jar lightly.

“Good morning.” Hinata entered from the bathroom, wiping his hands on a towel, “I just finished cleaning your room. You can move back but I recommend wearing shoes and sweeping a few more times in case…”

“Oh, shut it for a second.” Nagito huffed, “And come here.”

Hinata did as he asked. Nagito didn’t waste time. Sure, perhaps the night before was a fluke, but he wasn’t going to let the memory slip. Pulling Hinata down he kissed him deeply.

**Author's Note:**

> Lucky Stars: To my embarrassment, I'm horrible at folding these.
> 
> Foreign religious text: I am referring to the Old Testament and Exodus.
> 
> Souda: I head canon he has very heavy tattoos during his stint as Despair.
> 
> Sonia: I've mentioned this before but I head canon that she killed young girls and bathed in their blood while in Despair.
> 
> Saionji: Mentioned in my other stories, but I head canon that she broke one of her legs while in Despair.
> 
> Koizumi: Again, mentioned in a couple of my other stories, but I headcanon she cut some fingers off while in Despair so she couldn't hold a camera properly. Souda has made her prosthetic fingers.
> 
> Hinata's ceiling: I like to think he paints it because it's boring and white.
> 
> Chamomile tea: Can help with sleep.
> 
> Breaking the paper: I do that all the time when I fold cranes. I like folding them smaller. Plus it conserves paper.
> 
> Eight: I've also been told (by my father) six is a lucky number too. It's actually to the point that (at least in Hong Kong, again according to my dad while he still lived there) people want to custom their license plates on their cars to have those numbers. And yes, my dad insisted on those numbers to be on one of our car's license plates.


End file.
